


One Simple Request

by niciasus



Series: Judas Kiss [2]
Category: Actor RPF
Genre: M/M, Real Person Slash - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-29
Updated: 2006-10-29
Packaged: 2017-10-04 05:36:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niciasus/pseuds/niciasus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heath receives a phone call from Jake's mother.  Second story in Judas Kiss series</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Simple Request

Heath folds the dishcloth into a square and places the folded cloth on the top of countertop near the kitchen sink. Heath stands back making sure everything is in its place, when the phone rings interrupting his inspection.

"Hello", he answers and tries not to let the disappointment come through to his voice. The people he cares the most about seldom call him at this number and the one person he wants to hear from wouldn't even think about using the number to his landline.

"I realize I haven't been exactly nice to you."

"Oh. Hello to you too," he says, surprised at hearing her voice.

"I think you should come to Los Angeles."

"Huh? Something happened?"

"I guess you should know my influence has a limit."

"You're kidding me, right." Heath's short, stubby fingernails scrape back and forth over his buzz-styled haircut. A month ago, he asked his barber to shave off his hair. The idea came on him sudden, cutting off his hair, as though the change was some way of offering up his shame to the unsuspecting world. The barber talked Heath into a buzz cut instead.

The laugh that trickles through the phone line seems strained. "There was a time he would listen to me. I think mom have worn out her welcome and have been put firmly in her place."

"Shit, I have no clue to what you're talking about," he says sarcastically, listening to her talk about herself in third person. "I'm sorry."

"That's okay. Have you been keeping up with the news?"

"Yes. Is this what have you worried?" Heath draws out a chair from beneath the kitchen table and sits down, spreading out long legs, crossing ankle over the other.

"Honestly. I am. I've wanted nothing but happiness and the best for my children. It's difficult for me to sit back and watch something I feel will harm them, so…"

Heath sees her clearly in his mind; her shrugging her shoulders just like her son would do when he's amused or confused.

"…I give unwanted advice", she says and takes a deep breath. "I'm not sure about these people, Heath. He's been down a lot, lately. I'm worried they're taking advantage of his good nature when he's not up to par. Do you know he came to our home, twice, two sheets to the wind. His father literally dragged him to the shower and cleaned him up. I want to say my opposition to you has never been about you as a person. I think you're a fine man. A little crude to the public. But you've cleaned up just fine. I guess he has something of his mother in him." She laughs softly.

"Thank you, Naomi, for your vote of confidence." He accepts her apology, but there it is the mother lode of guilt and shame coming down on him. She didn't know why her son was drinking and if she did, she wouldn't be so kind to him. Even now it shocks him, thinking on that time he caused Jake pain.

"My pleasure, indeed. He won't talk to me. Can you come to LA? I think he needs you."

Heath didn't have the heart to tell Naomi, Jake wouldn't talk to him either.

The doors to the airport open up to a balmy Los Angeles day. LA doesn't have the steamy humidity in its air like New York. With its broken-down concrete streets and tall-bricked buildings, soaking up the heat like asphalts parking lots. New York possesses historic character and aged old melting pot of cultures and traditions. Heath loves New York like no other place except his country of birth. People there seem less affected by the sight of celebrities than they do in Los Angeles. It's a place Heath could just be.

While hailing for a taxi, Heath senses someone is watching him and he turns to find a glint of sparkle reflecting off a camera pointing at his direction. The cabbie drives up to the curb next to Heath. Heath glances over at the man taking his picture. Wouldn't justice be served if he could just smash that camera into little pieces. Yeah, and a picture of you attacking the freaking camera would be in the tabloid in a heart's beat.

Heath considers giving the man his middle finger but shakes his head. Not worth the trouble. Running afoul of the paparazzi would get him nothing but bad press. And that is not the reason why he came to Los Angeles.

The cabbie let Heath off at a six story brown brick building with green colored doorframes, double doors, and clear glass that takes up most of the space. He goes inside the building ignoring the concierge, who waves at him as he passes by. He isn't inclined to starting up a conversation with the talkative man.

He rides up the elevator chewing on a hangnail. He walks down the empty corridor dragging his feet. He stops in front of the apartment, deeply breathing in and out, urging himself to stay calm.

The knock on the door is loud and in response he gets no answer. Heath tries again and this time he's saying a prayer like please let Jake be home and please let him be alone. During the entire trip to LA, pictures of Jake with Lance Armstrong, and Matthew McConaughey haunted him. Even his publicist sent him snapshots of the trio, along with a message written on a post-it-note, asking, "Do you have the scoop on this?"

Jake wouldn't do that to you, bud. We've unfinished business to take care of. Are you sure? It's your fault and you deserve to lick Jake's boots.

Shut up.

Finally Heath gives up the waiting and pulls out a key from the pockets of his jeans. When steps insides and closes the door behind him. All he sees…

Jesus.

The scene in front of him is not what he expected to see.

The scent of stale beer crawls up his sensitive nose. Newspapers are strewn over the floor. The floor is littered with beer cans are bent to half shape. The place is like a ready-made trash dumpster. Heath kicks a pair of sneakers out of his way and treads down the short hallway to the bedroom.

The bedroom is in slightly better condition than the rest of the apartment. His eyes travel to the spot on the night table where Jake keeps a picture of them together. It's ritual for him to search for the picture because he's reminded of a guardian angel. Jake and Heath watching over them, living and making love in their sacred temple.

The picture is gone. Heath stumbles on bedcovers hanging off the bed trying to trip him up. In its place is an astray of ashes and butts. Jake said he would keep that picture forever as reminder of to whom he belong to.

Shit. A strap hooked to the duffel bag he carries fall off his shoulders as he plops down onto the bed. The heel of his hand rubs across his eyes.

Might as well roll up the proverbial sleeves and clean up this dump.

Jake loves to cook. Heath loves to watch. He made a great show in distracting his lover from his task. He would push up against Jake's back. Would wrap his arms around him until Jake complained. Then Jake would wiggle, pressing his ass into Heath's growing dick. "You gonna set us on fire."

"Not the kind of fire I'm looking for, J." Heath would nip Jake on the neck.

"Screw dinner." The stove knob twisted to off position and the pots moved to a cold burner. Jake turned and attacked Heath. Clothes fell off bodies and dropped to the kitchen's floor. Laughter, snorts, and grunts sounded throughout the room. Jake in Heath's lap, rode him fast and hard. Made Heath's eyes rolled to the back of his head. He asked for fire, he got exactly what he'd aimed for, the giving and receiving of intense pleasure. A beautiful way of starting the evening hours, loving Jake.

Spicy, herb scent threads invisibly into the air. The kitchen is his second favorite place to be whether he's in NY or LA. Heath stirs the pot of spaghetti sauce thinking on how much he misses Jake.

Missed being with that crazy man with his eclectic taste in books and music, and his easygoing ways until he wants something badly. Attitude changes like a chameleon and Jake becomes as stubborn as a mountain. His stomach growls a rumble. "Yeah, getting to it", he murmurs as he hears a door scrapes open.

"I smell food," a voice says.

"Shiiit. Mom." Jake yells.

"Mom. What are you?" Heath can't place the voice but it does sound familiar. "About damn time, boy, someone cleaned up this dump."

"Shut up."

Jakes rushes into the kitchen ready to do battle with his mom, it seems. "Didn't I tell you… Heath." The boom in his voice goes two octaves lower.

"Hey there, mate".

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Came to be your personal maid. Didn't you get word?"

"Fuck you."

Shit. "You can do that too."

"Hey y'all." Blonde hair reveals itself over Jake's shoulder. Rag-head wearing Matthew McConaughey. Does he ever part with that damn bandana? Heath doesn't like Matthew touching Jake as if he has the right.

"Are you alone?" Jake's head twists and turns, looking for something. Heath can guess at Jake's thoughts. Wouldn't that be just plain stupid of him to bring that along.

"Yeah," he says, trying to ignore the smirk on Matthew's face.

"You gonna introduce us?" Matt flings an arm around Jake's shoulders and shakes him in a hardy manner.

Jake rolls his eyes at Matt and hangs onto Matt with arm across his back. "Matthew McConaughey this is Heath Ledger. Heath, Matt."

Matt waves at Heath. "Hey, dude."

Heath nods his head in acknowledgement. Stares at Jake holding Matt. He turns his back to them pretending to check on the food. But Heath is ablaze and not in lust. He picks up the spoon on the counter, his fingers wrapping around the handle, tightening into a fist.

"Whoa, now I call that a genuine brush off."

"Will you be quiet."

"Look man, I don't know what's going on here. That's your problem. You coming to the party tonight or not?"

"Um, I don't…"

"It's in your best interest."

Heath drops the spoon and whirls around back at Jake. "You got some place to go, Jake?"

"No need to get hostile, " Matt butts in. He holds up the palm of his hands as though waving a white flag.

"What. Is he your agent or something? Heath directs his question to Jake.

"Well, see now. Jake is a friend of mine." Matt says, putting his arm back around Jake's shoulder. "You. I just met."

"Fuck this." Heath blows out of the kitchen, brushing pass Matt on his way out. He couldn't stay or he would embarrass himself. Couldn't stand to watch Jake, worshipping Matt.

He hears Matt say, "What bug crawled up his ass?"

And Jake conciliatory tone "We had a falling out…"

"So…"

"C'mon Matt. He flew in from New York. Have to see what's up with him."

"All right, man. You're coming, right. There's going to be women, booze, and shit. We're gonna have a grand old time."

"Yeah, yeah. Get outta here." There's the nervous laugh coming from Jake. "I'll see you later, man."

Voices fade, a door closes, Heath sits on the bed with his head in his hands. He has no right to blow up as he did. He can't fix the problem if they are angry at each other.

"I see you've been busy." Jake throws another pair of sneakers by the bed. Jake has a closet full of sneakers.

Heath's neck cranes upward. "This place was like a pig sty. Where the fuck have you been?" Despite the heat coming out of his mouth, another kind of heat is stirring down below. Jake looks good in biker shorts. Long legs are thinner but muscular. Black spandex shaping over the place he'd love to bury his face in.

"None of your damn business, Ledger. You're not my mother." Jake tugs off his t-shirt. Heath leans back on the bed, elbows holding up his weight.

"If I was your mother, I would turn you over my knee and teach you better manners."

Suddenly, Jake is in Heath's face. Grabs a fist full of the shirt he's wearing. "I would like to you see you try."

Heath sits up, keeping Jake from ripping his shirt. His first instinct is to shove but the smell hits him full force in the face. "Damn, you smell like a fucking brewery. You drunk?"

"Apparently not drunk enough."

"Courtesy of your new friends?" Heath presses down on Jake's fingers and forces them open, and remove them from his shirt.

"At least they're honest. Who the hell do you think you are barging into my home. Showing up like you own me."

"Jake, I tried calling you. You haven't…"

"Took you two fucking months to get up off your ass and show up here. You know what. I don't want to talk to you. I'm going to take a shower."

Jake storms off towards the bathroom. Heath jumps up from the bed following him. "Jake, wait. We have to talk."

"Talk. You do anymore talking and I may fucking die." Jake slams the door on Heath. Locks it, preventing Heath from storming in.

God, what a mess. He stretches down on the bed and rolls over to his back. Exhausted beyond comprehension. He's remembering the image of Matt's hands on Jake, and his Jake bobbing like a caricature in Matt's arms. He hates Matt without even knowing the fella. He misses Jake with his whole being. He has to find a way through or God, he just don't know what the hell he's going to do.

It's all too much for Heath. He tries to stay awake. He can't fight the draining pull of stress, regrets, and loneliness. In a flash Heath is out cold.

The weight of a heavy thump jars Heath awake from a troubled void. The weight is moist and feels like pure skin. Smells like soap and Jake mixed in. He's pinned him flat on his back to the bed. Heath hugs the weight to his body before he even open his eyes.

"I must be out of my mind but I fucking need this."

Heath isn't about to deny Jake nor his own needs, not when he has Jake right where he wants him. "Bring it on", he says in a voice still dampen with sleep, and he spreads open his legs as far as his jeans will allow him. The muscles under his fingertips feel good to him as the nerves under the surface of the skin come alive, just touching Jake, massaging the sides of his chest, the palms of his hands slipping over and down the back, fingertips reaching the curve of Jake's ass. Feels the tightening and the release of that ass as Jake rocks into Heath and Heath, restricted by his jeans, thrust up, meeting Jake. Like a man finally tasting water after long periods of thirst, Heath is hard for Jake. Wanting more, without Jake in his arms, Heath couldn't survive.

Jake wiggles out of Heath's arms and straddles his body, begins unbuttoning shirt and jeans. The entire time Jake avoids eye contact with Heath as he helps him removes his clothes. He does so in silence.

"How long?" Heath asks, needing to breakup the quiet. He tries to roll on top but Jake has other ideas. Keeps him pinned on his back.

"25 minutes or so. I sat in the chair and waited for you to wake up. Took too long. Don't move, I've got this covered." Warm breath grazes against the skin of his neck. A wet tongue licks below Heath's ear.

"Little shit. You're as demanding as ever," he says, feeling better hearing Jake's voice. That sweet voice that falls between manly and girly, the inflection of tone underlies the nature of Jake. Jake has never been the quiet type of guy. "Have your way with me." And Heath stretches out his arms to the sides of the bed.

"I'm planning on it." Jake slides over Heath, kissing down over his chest, planting wet lips on skin shivering from the things Jake are doing to him, like burying his face in Heath's stomach and sticking the point of tongue in his navel. Heath's back rises off the bed, it felt so damn good.

"I miss you," Heath says, trailing fingers down side of Jake's face into his beard.

"Shh… Don't say a word Heath. Don't think."

Falling back on the bed, he thinks on the pain in that voice, and it causes Heath to tremble, remembering that he's the reason for that pain. Can time travel backwards to the point when life was less complicated. He would do things differently and face head on the trouble rising between them.

Such a gift isn't his to bestow. What Heath could do is offer up his body for Jake's will and make him believe, he loves Jake. But now isn't the time to tell Jake, he would have to reconnect through the simple act of making love.

"Come here, you," and reaches down and pulls Jake up so they are face to face. His arms go around Jake and clasp the body in a tight hold, wrapping his long legs around the slim hips, keeping Jake imprisoned. Jake holds Heath's face between the palms of his hands, fingers pushing through the strands of hair right above the ears. Blue eyes that are wide and sad-looking gaze directly into brown eyes. Then Jake is on him with his tongue forcing their way between Heath's lips. A duel takes place, tongues sliding over each other, swiping across teeth, roaming over wet, soft surface.

Jake bites him on the lips and Heath knows it's a form of punishment but the sharp sting goes straight to his dick. "God," Heath says.

"Um…" Jake licks over the bitten lip as though soothing it. "Do you know what you do to me?"

"Yeah," Heath groans.

They are hard for each other. Legs, arms, and hands entangle as they strained grasping each other. Couldn't keep off each other, touching sensitive places, stroking down the long hard planes, digging into muscles, and breathing in each other's air.

Jake is swallowing Heath down whole having moved smoothly out of Heath's reach. He's sucking Heath like a man starving for a Popsicle, going up and down the long column, teeth grazing lightly on the underside of his dick. Heath tries hard to not pump upward wanting to bury himself within the tight confine of that experience mouth, Jake knowing what he likes, how to make Heath scream if he wants to. "J. I'm going to blow," he says, helplessly, the sheets balls up in his fist.

Jake drops him like a hot potato, a locomotive putting on sudden brakes, and rears back onto the flat of his feet straddling Heath. "Shit." He's taking in deep, ragged breaths. Moisture is dripping off his forehead. A hand palms Heath's tight sack and squeeze, putting on the brakes there as well.

"I think you're trying to kill me."

"Maybe", is all Jake says.

Whatever is going on inside the brains of his lover, Heath has no idea. There is something different about their making love, a slither of tension that isn't part of them, what they are to each other. They've fought before. Make up sex after a fight was hot, sometimes rough, sometimes dominant. Heath has a need to touch Jake so he trails fingers down his stomach of his lover, who's rocking on him, pressing down on his dick. Wraps fingers around the head sticking out at him, thumb gently, sliding over the slickness there.

Heath forms a fist around the hardness. Jake moves, sliding hips sliding back and forth. "Old God. Heath."

"Yeah, baby. Love seeing you like this."

Bending down kissing hips, Jake slips out of Heath's hold. "Fuck me". His body hovers over Heath as he searches for the lube in the night table beside the bed.

Heath prepares Jake. Jake pumps his hips up and down as a finger covered in lube stretches him open. "Do I need a condom?"

It's a terrible question and one he wouldn't have thought to ask before. Jake with eyes half-closed in desire, mouth is gapping open doesn't miss a beat and whispers "No."

Then he says, "I'm ready", and pushes Heath down on the bed and lavish lube on Heath's cock. Places his body at an angle of where he wants to go and thrust down.

They both moan as their bodies came together. Inch by inch Jake takes him inside, going down, easing up, hands clutching hands, strength holding strength. When Jake accomplishes his goal and covers the length of Heath's hardness, he trembles, and Heath let go of the reins Jake has on him. He folds up his body and grasps Jake to him, and rolls him to his back to the bed. Jake opens up wide to Heath and wraps legs around his hips. Heath thrust once, fully seated again.

God, he's… "You're beautiful." Heath tells Jake and licks at the gapping mouth, open in desire, inhaling the very breath Jake is breathing.

"Heath, Heath." Fingers dig into muscles on the arm. "I'm gong to make you feel so good", and then Jake slides his hands up Heath's arms and up to his shoulders holding on.

"You do, baby."

They rise to the edge of a precipice, neither one wanting to spill over. Jake is writhing under Heath, rising up, meeting his long and hurried strokes. Heath unable to deny the pain of pleasure any longer, he grabs hold to Jake's dick and starts pumping. "Come for me."

"Oh, fuck."

"Yes."

Jake comes totally apart thrashing underneath Heath. Heath cries out and feel his whole body exploding, his whole body trembling from loving Jake.

And when he gets the strength to lift up his head. Got to kiss my man, show him how grateful I am. Instead he sees eyes staring up at the ceiling in a glaze, tears rolling down the sides of his lover's face.

Jake says in a tone of despair "Can she give you this?"

The kitchen walls are as white as the skin on Jake's body. The wood trimming running across the four corners of the ceiling is the same color as Jake's hair. The ceramic counter top is shaped into squares. The squares are of alternate colors of white, black, and blue. The blue reminds Heath of the color of Jake's eyes.

This kitchen is no stranger to Heath and yet, he's never thought about the color scheme, or about the correlation between the pale wall and the pale back staring back at him. But then he would've been right up there with Jake either helping him with the cooking or interfering with it, as was his usual way.

After Jake's outburst, the guilt return and he's at lost at what to say. Apparently Jake hasn't forgiven him – what made him think it would be that easy. Jake said two words to Heath. "I'm hungry", and rolled out of the bed and put on a pair of black silk underwear.

Following him minutes later into the kitchen, Heath sat down at the kitchen table and waited for a sign. He got the cold, silent treatment for his patience. Not once does Jake make eye contact with Heath. He moves back and forth in front of the kitchen countertop, chopping onions, boiling water for the pasta, the sound of the utilities he's cooking with standing in place for the words refusing to come from his mouth.

When the knife hits the countertop, Heath jumps.

Unable to take it any longer he says, "Are you going to the party?"

"How long are you staying?" Jake avoids looking at Heath. He bends down to the cabinet below and pulls out the coriander.

"Leave tomorrow night." Heath mutters while chewing his thumbnail.

"Why did you bother? God, I'm so fucking easy." Jake places the coriander in the sink, removes the pot from the stove burner, and dumps the pasta into the coriander.

"No, Jake." Heath brings his hand to his face and swipes across it. "You wouldn't answer my calls. We needed to talk. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Jake moves quickly when he wants to. A spatula is in his hand and he's looming over Heath. Heath tries getting out the way. "What. Am I worth one day of your time. You breeze in here. Pound my ass to the mattress. Then off you go. What do you want from me Heath. I can't take this shit anymore. God, I can kick your ass back to Australia. Tell me something, is she living with you, sleeping in your bed?"

"Are you fucking that Matthew character?" It's an instant reaction of self-defense. Heath knows he screwed up real bad when Jake found him in bed with that woman.

"You moron. You're not turning this shit back on me. I'm not the one who betrayed you." He stalks back to the counter. Picks up the coriander filled with pasta. It goes flying across the room. Some of the pasta landing on Heath's chest. Heath scrambles out of the chair. The hot pasta stinging his skin.

"I'm outta here. You can do whatever. Go back to New York. Fuck that girl. "

"If you go to that party, don't expect to see me again", Heath yells at Jake's departing back.

Jake whirls around and points a finger at Heath. "What a laugh. Thought you were already gone."

Minutes later the front door slams shut. Heath sits like a stone at the table. You could've told him the truth, you ass. What the hell am I going to do?

Heath does another cleanup. Seems like that is the only thing he can do well.

Heath considers his options. He could call the airport and see if they could change his flight plan. He could try to get some much-needed sleep. He could hit someone. He could scream and the neighbors probably would call the police. He's so fucked. He opens the refrigerator and grabs a can of beer. Changes his mind and put the beer back. To hell with it. He's going after Jake, going to crash in on the party.

Jake's telephone rings.

"Yeah." He knows who's calling him.

"Did you talk to him?"

He laughs sourly. "If that's what you want to call it."

"Let me hear it."

He tells Naomi everything including the incident with the woman. She listens without interruption or judgment. Funny thing about Jake's mom, Heath has always liked her. Liked her down-to-earth manner even though he knew she was against Jake and his relationship. She's becoming a friend while he's losing her son.

"Damn. I thought I was the cause of your problem."

"I'm my worse own enemy." If Jake only knew the half of it, he probably would call him a fool and then laugh 'til he's bent over in pain full of giggles.

"I'd say but you do have valid concerns. I should rant at you for cheating on my son. But shit happens."

"Shit happens?" Heath repeats, amazed at her reaction.

"Yes. There are times one have to walk the hard road before they discover what they would do or not do for love. Discover what's really important to them. Love does not promise you a rose garden. It's a well-used metaphor but is damn well true. Do you love him?

"I'm in love with Jake, Naomi."

"I knew that. Just wanted to hear you say it. So what are you going to do about it?"

"I'm going to the party. I'll get on my knees if I have to."

"Good. But save your knees." He hears her chuckling. "Just drag my stubborn son off somewhere and play nice."

"Okay," he says, laughing.

"Would you like me to reschedule your flight?"

"Huh. I now know where Jake gets his persistence. You're a tough lady. Donna won't like it. Hold on for a sec." Heath walks into the bedroom and pulls out his flight ticket from the duffel bag. He gives the information to Naomi.

"She's your agent, right?"

"Yeah."

"I'll take care of Donna. I know her. I'll tell her you're in negotiation for your life."

Heath truly burst into laughter. The first real joy he's had in months. "I think you're right about that one."

Naomi joins in, cementing a bond between them that is long overdue. But she leaves him with one last thought. "Heath you'd better treat my son well. Because next time the gloves are off. Deal?"

"If I mess up, I'll give myself over to you for complete torture."

It's wild. Not his kind of thing. Loud music, too many people, and he stands there watching the scenery unfolds while the taxi pulls away from the curb. Some wrote Jake is boring. Heath amuses himself reading the crap on the net. He knows who's boring and it wasn't Jake. This partying thing played out long time ago in his book. Did quite a bit of it in his younger days. But now he prefers quiet nights at home. Lying about listening to music, sweet talking Jake into something pleasurable for both of them.

There's a line of people wandering around the side of Matt's Malibu beach house. Heath follows them instead of going through the house and runs straight into Matthew rag-head McConaughey.

"Hey, you made it, buddy." Matthew hitting him on the back as though they were best of friends.

"Did you expect me?" Heath says, unwilling to give Matt an inch of friendliness.

"Honestly, didn't think you had the guts to show up here."

"What's your problem, dude?"

"You're the problem." Heath notices the smirk is gone from Matt's face. There's a shift in the wind and it's blowing his way. Matt is tense and the blue eyes, lighter than Jake's, are cold to see. "Come on over here, buddy. I wanna to talk to you."

Heath is curious but not afraid and follows Matt to a spot out of the mingling traffic. A few people are talking there. Matt tells them to take a hike.

"You got me here," Heath says, thinking this bum couldn't be any more rude."

"Look, dude. You may not like me. Don't mean shit to me. But Jake. When I say he's a friend. I mean it. A friend, you got that."

Heath shrugs. "So why you're telling me?" And wonders how much did Jake say to Matt about them and their problems.

"He came here messed up. I don't know what the fuck he sees in you. Jake is meeting with the producer who's going to film Lance's biography. I got him calmed down. If you gonna start shit, take it someplace else."

"What film?" There have been rumors for years about doing a bio of Lance Armstrong's life. Pieces of the puzzle fall into place and Heath is damn near struggling from not letting the embarrassment show. He grips his mouth with fingers, shaking his head.

"You didn't know?"

"No," he says truthfully even though admitting the truth to Matt has him feeling like a dork. Jake should've told him.

"You two got some messed up relationship."

"It's none of your damn business, McConaughey."

"Calm the fuck down."

"You know where Jake is?"

"Is this going to be friendly or will I have to kick your ass out of here."

"I'm trying to negotiate the rest of my life."

Matt holds Heath's eyes, looking for truth, maybe. "Got it bad, don't you. It figures." Matt smiles like he's just solved a great mystery. "I'll take you to him but let me tell you something. Any sign of trouble will make me an evil man. You don't want to fuck with the evil man."

"Thanks," Heath tells Matt. He's thinking Matt getting in his face would be the least of his problems.

"There are a lot of people here. Some important. Be cool. Not everyone is as accepting as me."

"Yeah, I hear you."

"Like I said. Jake is a friend. Fuck with my friends and you gotta deal with me."

Turns out Matt didn't get the chance to take Heath to Jake. They waltzed their way through the crowd like a turtle fighting the pull of a river going upstream. People kept stopping Matt, making conversation. Some recognizing Heath said hello. Some girl planted herself in front of Matt and took the opportunity to chat up Matt. She used every arsenal in her bag of tricks trying to keep Matt's attention on her. Her huge breasts bouncing, looking ready to spill over her thin bikini top captivated Matt. Heath chuckled silently watching Matt putting the moves on the girl. He made his escape then while the girl engaged Matt and ended up at the back of the house, which faced the beach.

Rounding a corner of the house, Heath spots a baseball cap sitting askew on top of a tall, dark haired man. Moustache and beard covering up that mouth he knows so well. A girl is talking away at Jake and he's nodding his head but it becomes obvious the girl doesn't have Jake's full attention. The twist of the lips and the blank gaze are signs of a body language Heath knows well.

Roaming blue eyes settles on his hungry eyes. They grow wide with surprise. White teeth make an appearance as the mouth on the Jake's face spread from cheek to cheek. Warmth feels up empty spaces, makes the beat in Heath's chest go thump. Nothing so beautiful than to have his man give him a shit-eating grin.

"Hey, partner", he says, sliding up to Jake and nudging him on the shoulder.

Realizing she has lost Jake's complete attention, the girl steps back, her pale face tinted red and relinquishes her place to Heath.

"Where'd you come from?" Jake shoves him back and doesn't notice the girl is gone.

Heath shrugs and gives Jake a lopsided grin "Someone forgot to give me an invitation."

"Didn't think you'd be interested." Jake lowers his head and looks at the ground.

"You gotta know," he says, moving in closer and whispers into Jake's ear. "I'll always be interested in you."

It's like the sun's slow rise to a new day, Jake meeting him eye to eye. The blues assessing Heath, searching for something only Jake could know. The browns begging, trying to convey to Jake what Heath failed to say in words. I'm sorry. Forgive me.

The space closes in on them, they kiss.

More than the touch of the lips but not sexual either. A kiss of saying hello, can we please start over, and I'm so damn glad you're here.

He couldn't have planned it better. Doesn't have to fall down to his knees and beg Jake to take him back. He would've done it, too. He takes the high road and goes one step further. In a split second, Heath has gone against the advice of Matt, his publicist, and his mother-in-law, Naomi, who asked Heath to be circumspect when he meet up with Jake. To hell with caution, it's the root of their problem.

Pulling back, Jake says, "Think you should warn a guy." There's excitement bubbling up in the blue eyes. The tongue slips out of the side of his mouth.

Heath stares at that tongue. "You make me crazy. You know that, don't you."

"My pleasure." Jake is laughing, keeping his eyes on Heath. The face is glowing with joy and this alone makes Heath feels he's done good. He came and claimed his man.

"Let's get out of here. I hear a buzz coming."

Matt is there on the front lawn with hands on his hips. He shakes a finger at Heath as they walk up to him. "You take advice real well, mate." Then the mouth quirks upward and what follows is a big assed grin. "Shit. That was some kiss. You know you're going to take some heat."

"That's why we leaving," Jake says.

"Leaving me with the cleanup. Yeah."

Whatever crap is going to spill out from Matt's mouth, Heath knows it's going to be good. All good. Jake is his friend.

"You okay, my man?" Matt asks Jake.

"I'm doing wonderful. Is this going to be a problem for the producer?

"Not if Lance has anything to say about it."

"Cool." Jake answers, relieved. "Still going to whip your ass for the part."

"Give it your best shot." Matt faces Heath. "Glad to know I won't have to kick your butt, after all."

"Yeah, like you and how many other people." Heath doubts Matt and him will be good friends. "Thanks," he says to Matt, anyway. That is about as much appreciation he can offer the scoundrel.

"Go on and get out here. Jake, see you tomorrow."

"He won't be available," Heath interjects.

"I won't?" Jake's eyebrows go up staring at Heath.

"I'm not leaving tomorrow."

"Yay," and like a kid, Jake pumps the air with a fist.

As they head over to Jake's car, Heath says, "Don't you have something to tell me?"

"Like what?"

"Like why you're hanging out with rag-head Matthew McConaughey."

"Man, that's bad." Jake begins telling Heath about Sony's proposal in making a bio of Lance Armstrong and that both he and Matt are competitors for the lead part.

They are back at the apartment. Soft music is playing in the background. Their stomachs full of spaghetti and meatballs. Heath is sprawled in a relaxed state on the couch. Jake is sitting on floor between Heath's legs. One of his arms is dangling off Heath's knees.

Heath fingers soft hair, watching the strands spread on his jean covered thigh. "Pick a city."

"Um… Antarctica." Jake says, giggling, and looks up at Heath.

"I said a city, not the South Pole, smartass." Heath smacks Jake on the forehead.

"Hey. Watch it. All right. New York."

"Good answer." Heath let a smile crawl on his face.

Jake rolls up and plops his body down on the couch next to Heath. "You know we have to talk about it. I don't want to. But what happens next time we have a fight. I don't even know where we are in this. Shit, I hate this."

They're legitimate concerns. Ones Heath has been waiting to hear from Jake. He may not be thrilled about going over bad history but Jake deserves better. "Talk then."

"The girl." Jake let out a short laugh. "Would've joined you if I wasn't so goddamn angry."

"Yeah, baby. And I would've kicked your ass," and Heath rubs his thumb over Jake's bottom lip.

Their faces are mere inches apart. "Can't happen again, Heath. Don't think I can handle seeing you with someone else."

"God." Heath reaches around to Jake's neck and pulls him toward him. Just so he could touch Jake's face, feel the warmth of his skin next to his, wants to stroke away the pain he has put there. "I'm sorry. I don't have any real excuse except I was fucked up over our fights. Scared you'd leave me."

"I wouldn't have left you, Heath. We needed to work out our problem. Not add to it. I came to your home that night to tell you we didn't have to live together. I understood your reasons."

"Damn." Two months of hell could've been avoided. "I got drunk in a bar, drowning in my sorrows. She made a play and you know the rest. That's all it was. Never saw her before then, and never saw her afterward." Heath starts laughing. Jake looks at him as if he's lost his mind.

"What's funny?"

"You wanna know what she said the night you walked out?"

"I guess. Go ahead and tell me."

"She asked me was I gay."

"What did you say. Hell no."

"Told her. 'Damn right I am. That was my mate walking out on me.' I was having performance issues and, shit, that got her out of my bed quick. Just so you know, I outted myself twice."

A bark of laughter bounces around the room. Heath joins in, chuckling. The strain enveloping them easing away through the relief of laugher.

"Performance issues, huh. I guess that's the reason my ass is sore." Jake is smug with knowing.

"Yeah. Heath Ledger is gay. Has eyes only for your body, your eyes, your mouth, your gorgeous dick, and for that damn tongue that slides out of your mouth at the strangest times. Screwed up in the head and heart by Jake Gyllenhaal. I owe you another apology."

"For what?"

"Accusing you with being with Matt."

"He maybe my type but he has blue eyes. I prefer brown."

"Prefer?" Does Jake want Matt? He wonders.

Jake practically flattens Heath as he jumps into his lap. Strong thigh muscles straddling over and around him. Jake grabs Heath by the chin and gets into his face. "Next time you accuse me of cheating, you'd better know what the hell you're talking about. What the fuck made you think I was interested in Matt?"

Heath locks arms around the force keeping him pinned down and stares up at him. "Jealousy. Matt's hands on you. Didn't like it," he says, plainly. "You still want me?"

"Damn right I do. I love you Heath."

"Good."

And there's pressure on his mouth, tongue begging for entrance, the kissing deepens. While they are at it, Heath searches for something behind his back on the couch.

"Let's go to bed," Jake says, pressing his groin into Heath's stomach.

Heath grabs a hold of Jake's hand and put something in it.

"What's this?"

"Pick a city."

Starring at his hand, Jake says, "New York. Does this means… Don't fuck with me, Ledger."

"These are your keys to the brownstone. If you want them. They are for the front door, garage, back and side doors…"

"I get it. You want me…" Jake eyes are so big Heath could drown into them.

"Yeah. Move in with me. I want you with me everyday and every night. I don't do so well without you, baby."

"It's all I want, us together." His thumb and index fingers rub a key as though Jake isn't sure they're real. "You said us being together could destroy our career."

Heath kisses Jake hard and says hovering at the edge of Jake's mouth. "Too late. I blew it when I kissed you at Matt's."

Jake has to laugh. Heath feels the rumbling of happy sounds on his chest. "Yeah, I think you're right. It's going to work out. We probably lose some support of our fans. Lose out on parts because of narrow-minded assholes. But it'll be worth it. People's attitudes change all the time."

Heath leans back, running fingers down Jake's face. "Just remember one thing."

"What?"

"Promise me you won't ever let the dissension to our being together get in the way of us being together. Remember I love you."

"I've got your back, babe."

End


End file.
